


Ten Long Years

by peachy_V



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Diary/Journal, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, I'm trying my best, Implied/Referenced Suicide, We dont know her, christine is trying her best, eventual raoul bashing, gustave is different, historical accuracy?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachy_V/pseuds/peachy_V
Summary: "All that does not matter now because he is gone.Leaving behind the bloody sheets and my broken heart."~*~Ten years can change a person and the relationships around them.Christine Daae's personal journal recounting the time before her trip to America.
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Comments: 30
Kudos: 38





	1. Entry 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you to anyone that took a chance on this fic! lol so it's been YEARS since I have written a fanfic (I was 13 when I posted a fanfic on wattpad and now I'm 22...)  
> I've had this idea on my mind for a while and I'm hoping I can actually be consistent and finish this.  
> I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave comment on where I could improve :)

It is odd sitting down and writing down my thoughts, if someone were to ever find this it would be absolutely mortifying! Yet it is a risk I am willing to take because at this point I have no one else to share these feelings within me. 

The Giry’s are gone, they were the only family I truly had and now they have abandoned me. This seems to be a common occurrence with people in my life. What a cruel joke! But that is besides the point.

I don’t know how to say this, the thought alone sends a painful ache directly to my heart and between my legs…  
Yes, I, Christine Daae, am no longer the innocent chorus girl from the Opera Populaire. Despite what many believed and rumored after the masquerade incident with a certain opera ghost, I was still intact and had no intentions of ever giving myself over to a man until I was married. 

But I did the unthinkable, I betrayed my fiancé and gave myself to the very same man that my fiancé thought dead. 

Mere days before my wedding, he came to me, Erik, but before that night I had only known him as my Angel of Music or the Phantom. Finally knowing his real name seemed to make him more real in my eyes. He wasn’t this angel sent to me by my beloved father, he was simply a man. A man that I had fallen in love with despite all of his flaws, physical and emotional. 

Somehow Erik found me tonight. Everyone presumed him dead after a mangled and rotting corpse had been found in the vast underground lake. Yet in my heart I knew it wasn’t true but one couldn’t help but speculate if perhaps it was true. So you could imagine the relief I felt seeing his tall silhouette on the balcony. 

I don’t think I could write down all that was discussed in those late hours of the night. But all I know is that the kisses we shared were like none other that I had ever felt before. I thought that everything would fall into place, we made love and it felt like we were made for each other. The love I saw in his eyes and the love I felt within my own heart tumbled out of my lips in ecstasy and he looked amazed and it seemed impossible but I saw the love within those eyes grow. When we were spent we laid next to each other, my head on his chest listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, every part of him was musical, his fingers running through my tangled curls. 

Everything felt perfect.

We did not talk about what would come next but I knew that I would follow wherever he went and before falling asleep to his heart's lullaby I whispered my love to him and kissed his chest. I felt him shudder below me and felt myself smile sleepily, drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

I expected to wake up in his warm embrace, to see the love in his eyes and I would have continued to express my love to him until he finally realized that it was true.  
That I loved him and was prepared to let him lead me wherever he went.

All that does not matter now because he is gone.  
Leaving behind the bloody sheets and my broken heart.  
I woke confused and looked for him, after not finding him my sadness turned to anger. I cannot possibly fathom how someone that killed in order to be near me and after having my mind, body, and soul left me! He’d betrayed me just as I had him. He was a stranger that knew all my secrets, but it was never meant to be between us.  
And beneath the moonless sky I wept for all I had lost.


	2. Entry 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! So I was initially gonna wait to post this but I kinda got excited about where the story was going and I decided to post it tonight lol  
> One important thing I forgot to mention in the first chapter is that this story was inspired by a fic posted on Fanfiction.net called Madame Valerius Is Dead by the yellow flower (it's great I highly recommend it). After reading their story I realized that this would be an interesting format to show what happened before Christine went to Coney Island.  
> Okay one more thing I might change some stuff in the summary bc there's something really important I left out but I kind of want it to be a suprise, so idk how I'm going to bring it up maybe in the summary maybe in the tags idk??  
> Anyways I'm rambling now, I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

The dress I would be wearing today was beautiful. Something I could have never even hoped to afford a few months ago. Intricate lacing and beading that would have taken hours to sew covered the exquisit white gown. 

White, symbolizes purity…

I have come to terms that I am a horrible person; cheating on my soon to be husband and promising to run away with another man just a month ago was not someone Raoul should be marrying.

The days following that one night were a struggle. I had to keep my broken heart hidden from everyone, especially Raoul. I think he suspected something was wrong with me but perhaps he brushed it off as me coping with the events that happened below the opera house. 

Yes, there was something wrong with me, after leaving me heartbroken that night I still missed Erik and the possible life we could have had with each other. The music and love we would have shared would have been beautiful. And I believe that makes me a horrible person because how could I forgive someone so easily after causing me and the people around me so much pain? Erik lied to me the moment I met him and used my vulnerability against me. 

I had trusted the Angel of Music with my entire being and after finding out it had all been a lie it shattered my childhood dreams and innocence. I wondered, what would have happened if my father hadn’t planted that idea in my head? Those stories always brought me comfort and happiness when we needed it most on those long nights of traveling like vagabonds, sleeping under the stars and dreaming of a life on stage.

What would have become of me if I hadn’t had that glimmer of hope in my life? 

My father's passing had been extremely hard on me and being forced to fend for myself had been worse. The first few years after his death I had been so focused on simply surviving, thanks to Madame Giry I did not have to worry about work or a bed to sleep in, but I wasn’t really living.

It wasn’t until the Angel of Music had spoken to me for the first time that I truly wanted to live again, I had a purpose and I would not let my father or my Angel down. Becoming a Prima Donna was our dream and I desperately wanted it to come true and thanks to Erik it did. For however brief a moment it was, being in the spotlight was exhilarating and every time the people clapped for me I could feel my father with me. I knew he would have been so proud of me at that moment. After years of dreaming a Daae was on stage, sharing their talents for the world to see.

But everything is different now. I am no longer that naïve trusting child I once was, nor am I a Prima Donna and maybe Raoul will not love the person I have become. After everything we have been through we aren’t the same people we once were, no matter how many times Raoul assures me nothing has changed. But I could see it in his tired eyes that things had changed. This change was bound to happen. 

If he knew how much I have changed in these last few days, he wouldn’t recognize me at all, he would probably call things off between us and I would be completely alone, with no Angel of Music to rescue me from my sadness this time. So maybe that is why I made the decision to continue my engagement with Raoul. Perhaps I was a coward that didn't know how to be alone. But I know that I still love Raoul, in my mind I knew there was no doubt about that. 

Yet there is this thought that maybe I am just being selfish That maybe I couldn’t have one man so I’m settling for the other. But I still have feelings for Raoul, that much is still true!

He has made me happy in the past and he has always said he would stand by me no matter what and I believe him. We both want to forget the past at the opera house and move forward with our new life! I know for a fact Raoul does not wish to speak about past events, so why should I? 

That is why in a couple hours I will be marrying Raoul. I make this vow today, to make Raoul the happiest person in the world and not let past mistakes ruin our bright future.

I just hope that he never finds out about my momentary lapse of judgement.


	3. Entry 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo! 
> 
> Thanks for anyone tuning in once again to this lil fic, I appreciate it <3  
> Finals are kicking my ass rn :/// I still have to write one more paper and finish an exam then I'm done with this semester so hopefully I can get a bit more ahead with this fic :-)  
> So there probably some very minimal historical inaccuracies in this chapter and some very mediocre smut (it shouldn't even be considered smut but just letting yall know)
> 
> (TW for very brief mention of s*lf h*rm)

In more ways than one I was no longer Christine Daae. 

I was now Christine De Chagny.

That day I awoke feeling my heart flutter in my chest. It was going to be a good day, a joyous day where Raoul and I’s love only mattered. Where we would finally be joined in marriage and spend the rest of our lives together. 

The wedding itself was a lovely affair. Everything was meticulously planned by Raoul’s family, they chose the dress, how my hair would be styled, who was invited, even what undergarments I would wear. I hadn’t been allowed to help much and I didn’t mind it. I wanted Raoul’s family to like me; there was already so much tension between us that I didn’t want to give them cause to dislike me further by picking something they did not like. 

However, there was one thing I was allowed, it was the only time I voiced my opinion. 

They wanted to choose roses, they said that the pop of colour would suit my complexion. But there was no way I could walk down the aisle and marry Raoul with the roses that reminded me so much of him. So, they let me have my way in this one instant and I carried pink peonies down the aisle.

Seeing Raoul’s radiant smile, calmed my nerves. We were doing this because we loved each other, there had been so much backlash from his family for marrying someone like me. Yet, he persisted, he did not care about any of that. He truly wanted us to be married and so did I. 

After the beautiful ceremony, a reception was held at the De Chagny estate. Everyone was having a wonderful time, given that there was an endless supply of champagne and delicious foods. And as I looked around at our guests, I realized that they were all there for Raoul. Their fake smiles couldn’t fool me. I knew that they all resented me, I was the outsider. The one that didn’t belong.

I could not see a single friendly face that was there just for me. I had no real family. My mother and father were long dead, Meg and Madame Giry had disappeared, and I didn’t really make any lasting friendship at the opera house. So, I turned to Raoul and told him how much I loved him. We were in this together now. He smiled down at me and kissed my lips and reassured me that the guests would be leaving soon. 

And he was right, I saw him saying goodbye to the first of the many guests a few moments later. That’s when I felt the dread slowly creep in. 

Soon we would have to retire to bed. 

I felt my heart begin to race and my breathing became shallow. Raoul would discover that I was not a virgin and I just knew that he would instantly figure out who had claimed that right before him. He would declare me a woman of loose morals and annule our short marriage and I would be alone once more. 

As we said goodbye to the last guest, an idea popped into my head. I cringed at the idea, but it was the only way I could possibly get away with appearing a virgin. So, before we went upstairs to get ready, I crept into one of the studies and searched for the object I knew would help me in this endeavor.

With the letter opener hidden in the drawer next to my bed I allowed Raoul into my chamber for the first time. 

We both sat next to each other, awkwardly making small talk but I could feel myself trembling from excitement. This would be the first time Raoul and I shared our love for one another, and it was something I wanted us both to cherish. With that in mind I let him push me gently down onto the bed and as he crept over me, I felt myself tremble with anticipation. 

We kissed until we were both breathless and looked deeply into each other's eyes. I pushed back his sandy blonde hair and gently trailed my finger past his temple to his rosy cheeks down to his defined jawline and finally I brushed my thumb against his kiss swollen lips. 

He sucked in a breath and quickly pulled my chemise over my head. There was a new sense of urgency to his touch, I could see it in his eyes, the desire he felt as he took me in for the first time. 

His soft fingers trail down my neck and collar bone, gently pushing aside my hair and as he got to the swell of my breast, he let his palm envelop me. His fingers pinched and pulled on my nipples; each spark of pleasure went directly to my core. 

I could feel his excitement pressing against my thigh and I shifted against him letting him know I was ready. But his fingers continued on their course until they reached down to prod at the apex of my thighs. It wasn’t necessarily enjoyable, but I wanted him to feel good so instead I reached down and began to unlace his trousers. He removed his clothes and settled over me once more.

When we finally joined as one, I couldn’t help but gasp at how ill prepared my body was for his invasion. This wasn’t how it had been the first time. 

But Raoul was incredibly sweet, he stopped and asked if I was okay and after reassuring him that everything was fine, he continued to move inside of me. I kiss anywhere my lips could reach; his jaw, his neck, his cheek, all the while I kept murmuring words of love. I wanted him to know how much I loved him. 

After the initial shock of his entrance resided, I could feel a familiar tension building up slowly. I threw my head back and let myself get lost in that feeling, wishing Raoul would just reach down and touch that one spot above the place we were joined. And right as my hand was going to reach that button that desperately needed to get pressed, was when I felt him stutter above me and release a deep groan. 

He briefly collapsed above me then rolled over. He hummed happily and kissed my temple, saying goodnight and I love you. I laid there for only a moment, a feeling of dissatisfaction gnawing at my core. But as I felt a trickle between my thighs, I remembered the important mission I had to complete.

When Raoul did not answer my quiet calls, I reached over to my nightstand and pulled out the letter opener. Sitting up in bed I brought it to my open palm and made a small incision. 

Hardly registering the pain of the cut I watched transfixed as the blood dripped down onto the sheets. A deep sadness creeping into my heart for lying to Raoul, but I couldn’t let that bother me right now.

Surveying my handy work, it definitely looked believable to me, but I hoped it would be believable for Raoul and the maids that would probably report back to Raoul’s siblings. 

Deciding I couldn’t look at the stain anymore I grabbed my secret journal from a box in my closet and drew a warm bath for myself. 

So here I am now sitting in a tepid bath, writing down my secrets to my thought keeper and new companion that would never judge me for past mistakes.


	4. Entry 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone!

Raoul and I have been married for two months. 

A few days after the wedding we packed some of our belongings and began to tour the French coast. 

Being by the sea reminded me of our time as children. Running away from the incoming waves and exploring the morning tide. Lining the windowsills with the many shells we would find on the shore.

Those blissful months living by the sea with my father in our cozy little home, always filled with aromatic flowers and the sound of violin playing. And love, there was always love in those memories.

Being away from the busy streets of Paris and the memories that we would rather not bring up was what we needed. Raoul especially. 

Sleeping had become a problem for him, most nights he would wake up and not be able to fall back asleep. When I would ask him if he wanted to speak about it, he would refuse and sometimes leave the room. And on those days, I wouldn’t see much of him. 

I just knew the reason he couldn’t sleep was because of his memories of the opera house. There were times that if I even brought it up, he would immediately shut down the conversation and leave the room. 

On the rare occasions he did stay in the room after his nightmares he would turn to my body for comfort. Those times our lovemaking wasn’t gentle, he liked being in control of the situation. It was like he was driving out his own demons every time his hips snapped into me. 

I would let him take what he needed because in those moments it felt like he knew I had betrayed him. I couldn’t do much about it, I knew he was coping in his own way. I just wish he would trust me enough to talk about what was troubling him… 

But our marriage so far had been blissful, Raoul was a good husband. I just wish he wasn’t so distant at times.

~*~

After those two months living on the peaceful French coast our time there eventually came to an end.

It was time to return to our lives in Paris.

The stomach bug that had been plaguing me the past couple of days forced us to return to the De Chagny home. Raoul insisted that the food was not up to a good standard and that it was best to return to his home, where I could get over the apparent food poisoning that had afflicted me. 

When I first went to live at the De Chagny home it took some time to adjust to this new form of living. Having people do things for me was odd to say the least. For years I had dressed myself every morning but now there was always Rose -- a young girl around my age with dark hair and bright green eyes -- to help me get dressed in the mornings.

I tried to build a friendship with the workers but there was always a formality that never left them when I attempted to talk with them about anything that did not relate to their work. But I understood that there would always be this boundary between us. Perhaps, like Raoul’s family, they didn’t like the fact that the opera girl managed to snag a wealthy Vicomte. But the few that did accept my company I kept close to my heart. Rose was one of the few that I felt normal talking to, like I didn’t have to put an act up when talking to her.

But still, it was lonely.

Raoul became busier once we returned. Leaving early in the morning and not returning until late at night dealing with business affairs that according to him, I would not understand. 

And through those weeks after we had returned, I was still feeling nauseous at many points throughout the day and nothing seemed to help.

But that all changed the morning that Rose asked me when my menstrual cycle was due. I had frozen and she apologized profusely, she only wondered since I had already been living there for some time now and she hadn’t noticed it when cleaning up for me. 

I thought back, and yes, I hadn’t had my menstruation. But I couldn’t remember if it had been two or three months since I last bled… 

On further inspection of my body, I noticed there were signs of pregnancy. My breasts were tender to the touch and slightly swollen and that would explain the nausea. All these symptoms because of the baby growing within me. 

It’s incredible really, I had never pictured myself as a mother, I believed my life would be spent on the stage singing to hundreds of people every night. 

But now according to my body I was going to have my baby in my arms in just a few months! 

Telling Raoul was an interesting conversation. That night when he came home from business in town, we sat down for dinner together and as we were eating dessert, I told him. He was definitely shocked by the news saying that we were fortunate enough to have become pregnant so quickly into our marriage. I could tell that he was frightened at the prospect of becoming a father. But I felt hope within me that once he met his child, he could handle it and would be a great father.

~.~

With the news of my pregnancy, I am certain Raoul's family is happy that I am with child, they now know I can serve an actual purpose to them. The De Chagny name will be carried on, they will especially be elated if I have a little boy. Although they try to hide the snide comments they make about me, I know that the De Chagny do not approve of me being married to Raoul.

It is times like these I desperately wish I had a way to communicate with Meg. She would be overjoyed about the news! The honorary aunt to my first child. After so many years of friendship she was practically the sister I never had. 

She was always the one to help me when I didn’t understand the ballet moves or helped me find my way around the opera house. And the stories she would tell, they were always the best.

Then there was Madame Giry, the only mother I really ever knew after mine died in childbirth. I just know she would have helped me through the morning sickness I was experiencing every day. 

I still didn’t understand why they left. After so many years of being “family,” how could they have left and not told me? Were they so appalled about going through with my marriage to Raoul that they didn’t want anything to do with me? If only they knew that I had made a completely different decision, but that choice was taken from me for the second time.

But now I had no way of letting them know about all these changes in my life and it is something I must come to terms with.

If they wanted me to contact them, they would have at least told me where they were going. Instead, they left without a word and now I have no way of asking them to help me because I have no idea how I’m going to raise a child without the people I considered to be my family being here to experience it with me.

Raoul says I have to look at the bright side of the situation, my child will experience the love of their real mother, and that Madame Giry not being here does not mean I will not learn how to care for my baby. He also said that with the wetnurse and nannies, I didn’t have to concern myself with figuring out how to care for our child, because they would have years of experience. 

My heart beat a little faster at his words, leaving our baby to the care of other women? That was never something I had considered, it felt cruel to give my child to someone else when there were hours in the day where I would have nothing to occupy my time with. But that was a conversation for another time. 

What my heart does know is that I love this life growing inside of me. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for it. And the important question that lingered at the back of my mind would have to wait until the child was born.

The day this child is born I know that once I hold him (or her!) in my arms I will love my child with my entire heart. 

No matter what.


	5. Entry 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful and safe time!
> 
> This chapter was never in my story timeline but as I was editing the other chapter I realized this was definitely needed. To all the fanfic writers out there, do y'all know what you're doing? Because I sure as hell dont lol  
> At the moment I'm just really happy I'm keeping up with writing and actually posting on here! Okay one last thing this is the longest chapter I've written so far and it's for one that I never even planned on including which baffles me lol
> 
> Okiii that's enough oversharing for one night... Thank you for reading!

No one ever tells you how odd it feels to see yourself growing and changing into such an immense size in such a short time when you are carrying a child.

Growing up I had always been a lanky child, never filling out clothes completely. But when I hit puberty and began to grow at such a quick rate, I could hardly recognize myself. My chest was bigger, my hips and thighs were scattered with stretch marks as everything grew into a new body that I was never prepared for.

Not having a woman there to explain these things to me was a challenge for my father. When my first menses came, he had to talk me down from a panic attack. I thought I was dying! But with a tomato red face he explained to me that this was a normal occurrence for girls and that I was not in fact dying. He then proceeded to ask one of the kind mothers that was travelling in the group we were in to help with the explanation on how I should take care of myself at this time of the month. She explained that now my body was changing into womanhood.

Here I am again, experiencing these new changes once more as my body accommodates to the life growing inside of me. As the visitor inside my body continued to grow and change my body, adding new stretch marks to the now faded ones and making my chest grow another size and changing not only the physical but also the mental. I felt a newfound peace settle over me despite all of these changes. Perhaps it was because I wasn't alone anymore.

Every morning I would wake up and look at my once soft stomach begin to expand just the slightest with each passing day. A knowing my child was in there brought a smile to my face. But I was still concerned, for someone that was about four or five months pregnant I thought that the bump would be bigger, but according to the doctor everything was fine, and all women grew differently. So, I trusted his examination and continued to watch over my child.

When the morning sickness finally became bearable, I found that I was struck with cravings at all odd hours of the day. The sweet tooth I already had seemed to increase ten fold, there were always sweets or cookies lying around my room. Just in case I was hit with the craving and wouldn’t have to make the journey all the way to the kitchen.

At night Raoul would lay beside me and rub my aching back or with his hand against the slight bump on my stomach he would tell me stories of his childhood. Playing with all the new toys his mother would buy him and running around with the family dog in the immense garden that was just outside my balcony. Most summers they would travel to one of their estates on the beach or travel to London where some of his cousins lived.

In turn I would tell him about my less predictable childhood. Playing with different children that we would meet along the way in my travels with my father. The doll that my mother had purchased for me while she was pregnant with me was my loyal companion for many years. Until one day, no amount of mending could fix her, and I had to bury her in a lovely field full of wildflowers. I would tell Raoul that it was a luxury for us to stay in one place for long. And when he would make a comment about it not being a suitable way to raise a child and that my father should have settled down and found stable work would always hurt a little bit. It wasn’t the most ideal of circumstances, but it was a childhood I cherished.

Most of the time, in order to avoid an argument I would ignore those comments and change the subject to something lighter that would make us laugh. He would then go into some elaborate story that would light up his blue eyes like they used to, and I’d have the strongest urge to kiss him. I wanted to bottle that carefree happiness that he would experience in those moments and save it for myself.

Selfishly, I would kiss him in those moments and let my hands roam down the hardness of his chest and stomach. Loving the way he would shudder in my embrace as I grazed him with my palm. In those moments we would whisper our love for each other and take pleasure in our bodies joined together.

Those nights were my favorite. We were together, talking like we used to. Basking in the joy that this pregnancy brought to our marriage.

But then, when I was about six months pregnant Raoul had to leave. There was business to attend to in the south of France and it was important he be present.

So, in April, he left and he would return in a few weeks.

The house continued to move along its business as usual. I would take tea and cookies in the garden or read in the library. But with Raoul gone, I had the opportunity to venture into the music room that had not been visited in what seemed like years. The only people going in there were the maids to clean any dust that settled over the shelves full of music scores.

I didn’t feel comfortable playing music around Raoul anymore, it felt like a part that I needed to keep just for myself. On the times he would catch me singing to myself he almost seemed startled like he didn’t remember that this once used to be my passion.

But with the baby on the way I felt more drawn to music. I would hum a lullaby or sing whatever came to mind when I would sit next to the stream that ran through the De Chagny estate.

So with Raoul gone I felt like I could finally go to the room I had never stepped foot into. The room that always felt forbidden to me. Its large open windows with the cream-colored curtains were left open, letting in the smell of the oncoming rain.

The light coming from outside illuminated the mahogany bookshelves filled to the brim with books about music theory, to composers, to learning the instruments themselves. The chaise lounge was next to the built-in fireplace facing the many instruments that were under dust coverings.

The moment I laid eyes on the large piano in the middle of the room it appeared like a ghost to me with the white sheet covering it. So many memories of months ago were brought to the forefront of my mind. Just by the sight of that piano.

I plucked a simple melody.

_Think of me..._

To my disappointment the piano had not been tuned in a very long time and the melody sounded completely horrible and distorted. I could almost hear Erik complain at the lack of care the instrument was suffering through.

I had to leave the room; the memories were too painful.

~*~

That night I could remember my dream vividly.

I was walking down the halls of my home, it seemed endless as I checked every room for the source of the voice calling out to me.

All at once I realized it was Erik’s tantalizing voice that was beckoning me. My heart began to race as I grew closer to him. I hadn’t seen him in what felt like years and just by the simple sound of his voice it felt so right.

I walked into the music room. The curtains open and the only sound I could hear was the patter of the rain against the window.

Standing proud and elegant, in his usual evening wear, white mask firmly in place, was Erik.

Exactly as I remember him. The beating of my heart only increased as he drew closer. His hand lifted up to run his fingers through the hair that ran down my back. I shivered as his long fingers continued to trail up my arm, past my collarbone to cup my cheek. I leaned into the warm caress of his hand and closed my eyes. Feeling content.

As he leaned in, I could feel his warm breath washing over my face. The gentle press of his bloated lips against mine sent sparks throughout my whole body.

He deepened the kiss and there was a new frenzy as our lips moved against each other. Mouth and tongue tasting and exploring everything we had to offer. I pulled him closer to my body, the feel of his hard body pressed against my own was not enough. I never wanted to let go of him ever again and as we shifted onto the bed, the weight of him felt so real between my spread legs that I forgot this was a dream.

His lips left my gasping ones as he trailed wet kisses down to my neck. Every inch of flesh he nipped and licked at sent an exciting spark down to my core. All I wanted in that moment was to feel his skin pressed to mine.

With a new sense of urgency, we began to undress each other, the only light to guide us was a candle somewhere in the room. My lips were kissing any part of him I could reach. As he settled over me once more my hands trailed down his chest firm chest and when I reached down and grasped the part that I so desperately wanted. Erik groaned into my mouth and thrust his hips repeatedly into my pumping hand.

His moan was the encouragement I needed to guide him towards my aching body. As he dragged the tip of his length along my slit, I could feel the moisture that had already gathered there.

I moaned when he finally pushed into me. Erik called out my name above me and when I looked into his glowing yellow eyes it was the same look he gave me months ago. There was love and a look of bewilderment as we were finally joined together.

I rocked against him with every thrust, my walls clenching around his length each time he cried my name out. Bringing me closer to that familiar release I had been craving for so long.

Erik continued to thrust into me when one of his hands trailed down the bump on my stomach to where we were joined and rubbed my clit as his tongue came out to flick at my newly sensitive nipples. I grasped his head, the warmth of his mouth on my breast bringing forth that immense sparking pleasure.

We reached our crisis together, crying out each other's names in harmony.

As I came down from my high, I held him to my heart, one of his large hands spread against my belly. My chest continued to rise and fall quickly as I tried to gain control of my breathing. The usually cool porcelain of his mask felt warm against my chest. I held him tightly wishing that the beating of my heart would somehow tell him how much I wanted him to stay with me.

I wanted to tell him, anywhere you go let me go to. Don't leave me behind again, like so many other people have done in the past.

But like any other dream you wake up and have to face reality.

That night I laid in bed and stared out the window. Watching as rain hit the glass, slowly lulling me back into restless sleep.

~*~

After that I didn’t visit the music room for quite some time.

The next few weeks were spent occupying my time with any mindless activity that could keep me entertained.

I learned to paint, embroider, and once tried to join other ladies for tea but found myself bored with their dreary gossip. Their cold stares and intrusive questions about “the strange affair at the opera,” didn’t really make me feel welcome. After one meeting with them I never returned.

Instead, I fell in love with gardening.

I felt at peace kneeling down on the soft ground, with my hands in the dirt pulling out weeds and planting new flower bushes with the help of one of the gardeners. At some point I saved a small patch of land for myself by the stream that I often visited. That is where I began to plant my own vegetables.

There was one time that one of Raoul’s sisters came to visit and when she caught me with dirt covering my forehead, dress, and hands she was absolutely mortified. I found it all incredibly funny as she reprimanded me for taking on such a dirty hobby, but I couldn’t find it in myself to even care.

~*~

Towards my sixth month of pregnancy my belly and back became a problem when gardening. I couldn’t stay on the ground for very long because then it was almost impossible to get back up on my own. With Raoul due to return in a few more days I was excited to show him all that I had accomplished in his time away.

Not being able to garden as much led me to spend my time by the stream. I would sit with my feet in the cool water and just enjoy my own company.

Something I hadn’t done in a very long time.

In that time on my own, out in the open I would let myself sing to my child. It took some adjusting to the change my voice had gone through with the pregnancy, but I wasn’t too critical about it.

I wanted to enjoy the moment, the peace I felt with the company of my unborn child.


	6. Entry 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of 2021!
> 
> I wish all of you a Happy New Year! Let's hope this one is a better one

At around four in the morning the first of the contractions began. 

I had been trying to fall asleep for hours, the ache my body was experiencing was incredibly uncomfortable, but I brushed it off as simply being well into my pregnancy. But then the sharpest cramp I had ever felt in my life hit me and then momentary pressure and a sudden wetness between my legs. That is when I knew that these weren’t ordinary cramps, this was the beginning of a whole new life.

I was finally having my baby.

There was a sudden beam of candlelight at my door and I saw Raoul rush in, I don’t even remember calling for him. He looked disheveled; it was evident he had woken up suddenly. His usually neatly combed hair was sticking out in every direction and his dressing robe wasn’t even tied completely.

When Raoul first returned from his trip, I was so happy to have him back. The enormous house had seemed to have become lonelier and foreboding. Without him there his sisters felt like it was their duty to come and stay with me despite all my gentle protests. 

During their brief stay they were constantly hounding me with questions about the birth and giving me instructions about where my baby would sleep and who would deliver the child. As calmly as I could I answered each of their questions and although there was always a glint of distaste in their eyes, I tried to keep any comment to myself. 

I wondered often if there would ever be a time that they viewed me as their equal, not someone that they could step all over. But that seemed highly unlikely. So, I counted down the days that Raoul would return. Anxiously hoping he would return early, and his sisters would just leave me alone.

The first night he was back we slept side by side. 

He tried to hold me against his chest but with my large belly and the stifling heat of the summer I couldn’t bear to be pressed so close to him. My chemise clung to my sweaty skin and although all the windows in the room were open the heat was still unbearable. 

It didn’t help that Raoul radiated heat that I would leave me sweating most nights. Try as I might to endure it, I couldn’t take it. After a week of waking up damp and uncomfortable, I asked Raoul if it would be okay to sleep in separate rooms.

For the most part he took it well, although I could tell that he was upset at first but neither of us could rest properly in those conditions. I felt terrible making him move out of his own room, so instead I took the guest room that overlooked the garden and the one that would be closest to the nursery. 

Sleeping alone at night had been helpful, the cool breeze that would enter at night offered a slight relief when sleeping became too uncomfortable with a huge belly in the way of everything. And on those cool nights I would sing softly to my baby, little nursery rhymes my father sang to me and when I felt him kick, I could burst with all the love I felt for my child.

Rose, my personal maid, and I would discuss whether the child would be a boy or a girl. According to Rose, she could immediately tell the child was going to be a boy. Just because of the placement of my belly!

But I didn’t really care if the baby would be a boy or a girl. I just wanted a healthy child. 

Hopefully, a baby that looked like me instead of their father. 

~.~

With Raoul back somehow the pregnancy took to the worst. I began to feel more exhausted than usual. I couldn’t even walk out on my usual strolls in the garden. Most days I would remain in my room dressed only in my chemise and drawers. Sitting on the balcony hoping for the weather to cool down just the slightest and offer me some relief from the sweltering heat. 

One morning, I felt well enough to venture out and the first place I went to was the garden. Raoul warned me that it wasn’t a good idea, but I still went. Despite his continued insistence, I assured him that I felt better and would take it slow. 

And I did. But I never noticed the tree root that was in the perfect place for my unsuspecting foot to catch on.

Everything felt like it went in slow motion the moment I began to fall. The ground slowly approached my face and I tried to angle my stomach away from most of the impact. But as I hit the ground, I remember screaming in pain. My ankle twisted and the side of my stomach that hit the ground ached. 

Luckily, Rose was looking for me when she heard me shout for help. All I could feel was panic in that moment. My first thought was if my baby was alright. If something happened to my child, I didn’t know what I would do.

The tears would not stop as the doctor came to examine my injuries. Raoul and he talked extensively and if I tried to ask questions the doctor would ignore me. I grew angrier. I couldn’t believe what was happening, I just wanted to know if my baby was safe!

The doctor pulled out a wooden instrument and asked Raoul to help me remove my dress. I remember blushing as he placed the instrument against my stomach and placed his ear to it. He stayed there for a while until he nodded his head and let Raoul cover me with a blanket. 

He looked at Raoul and said the baby was okay. He could still hear a heartbeat. But I should stay in bed and rest my ankle and to expect a bruise to form where my stomach hit the ground. This is where he turned and acknowledged me for the first time. He told me I was lucky that the baby was okay, but I would need to listen to my husband and stay in bed for the rest of my term.

“The Chagny’s could not risk losing their heir if it were a boy,” The doctor said and left me speechless in bed.  
He turned to Raoul and assured him that he would come back next week to check up on the child. With that he turned and left us alone in the room. I was still fuming about his comment, that man had no consideration for my well being or my child’s if they were a girl. His only concern was for the heir of the Chagny money! 

I waited for Raoul to come and gather me in his arms. That is all I wanted in that moment, to feel his warmth around me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. That we were okay.

But Raoul was angry. The signs were there, he kept pushing his hair out of the way and tapping his foot against the floor. And when he exploded, I was still in disbelief.

“I told you not to leave! You never listen to what I tell you and because of your dismissal of my instruction we could have lost the baby!” 

I didn’t know how to respond to that, because in a way he was right, I should have never left the room after days of feeling so weak. But how was I supposed to know I would trip? The anger I felt about the doctor ignoring me returned but it was all directed at Raoul now. 

How dare he put the blame on me. This wasn’t something I could control. So instead, I politely asked him to leave me alone and with a huff he slammed the door and left me on my own.  
I put my hands to my stomach and prayed my baby would be okay. Alone that night I cried myself to sleep.

And to my horror I woke with blood on the sheets. I screamed for Raoul and told him to call the doctor immediately.

My hands trembled as I wrapped my arms around my belly. I couldn’t stop staring at the blood. I killed my child. There was no way I could ever forgive myself. Raoul was right, I should have listened to him. Now because of my insolence I was going to lose my first child.

There were silent tears running down my face as the doctor once more pressed the instrument to my stomach. He nodded once and told Raoul that everything was okay. The baby's heartbeat was still strong, and nothing sounded abnormal. There would be some spotting of blood for a couple of days, but the baby and I were fine. 

Before he left, he asked to speak privately with Raoul. It was a bit odd considering they spoke to each other as if I wasn’t in the room with them, but Raoul invited him to his study.

I was relieved that the baby was okay and pressed my hand against my stomach, hoping he would kick, and I would be reassured he was still there. 

When the doctor finally left Raoul came back into my room. His entire demeanor was different. He looked tense. I panicked. Did the doctor tell him the baby wasn’t okay? I asked him what was wrong.

According to Raoul, the doctor told him that if I were to ignore the bed rest rule there could be more complications with the pregnancy. 

I could tell there was more to what the doctor told him, but he wouldn’t tell me. If I continued to press, he would become angry with me and another argument would ensue. So instead, I avoided the fight and asked him to join me in bed for the first time in weeks. 

We didn’t sleep. We just laid in silence side by side.

And when I finally felt the baby kick that night I cried with relief. For the rest of the night, I hummed nursery rhymes to my baby relishing every slight movement.

The next couple of weeks, I was strictly confined to bed rest. I wasn’t allowed out of bed without the help of Rose or any of the other maids. It was definitely the most frustrating time, but I listened to the doctor's warning. I didn’t want any harm to come to my child. 

For the most part Raoul and I avoided the topic of the fall and we tried to get back to how things used to be. But with him sleeping in another room and constantly working it felt like the spaces between us kept getting deeper. Even though all I wanted was to mend that distance, I gave him his space. 

Hopefully with the birth of our child things would get better.

There were two different possible dates for the birth. If my calculations were correct about my pregnancy, I was due very soon. But according to my wedding date I still had one month left to go.

~*~

Gustave Daae was born on a stormy June afternoon. 

A month earlier than was expected. But the doctor told me this was most likely a result of my fall.

With ten perfect toes and ten perfect fingers, he was a slight thing that practically weighed nothing as they placed him against my chest. With tears in my eyes, I noticed his head full of brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. I scanned him looking for any indication that he had been hurt after so long of being pushed out. But he was perfect.

And the moment I held him and looked into those beautiful eyes I fell more in love with him. This tiny boy was made from love and here he was in the world, finally in my arms.

The pain I had experienced for the past few hours had all been worth it just to cradle my child in my arms. 

Raoul tentatively came into the room after everything was cleaned up and looked down into our son’s eyes. When he first held him, I could see the affection he had for him. There it was the light in his eyes that I wanted to capture forever. Like Gustave was the key to a whole new start in life.

“He looks like your father.”

My heart could have exploded at that moment, he was right as I looked at my child’s tiny features. I could see my father in the dark slightly wavy hair and the hazel eyes, they were almost identical to my fathers except my baby’s eyes had flecks of gold within them.

Raoul sat next to me on the bed and we kept watch over our sleeping son in the bassinet.

~*~

The midwife had asked Raoul to leave as she began to help me bath and clean the room. As I was lying in bed, she held Gustave in her arms, I could see a look of confusion on her face. 

When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me and said it was nothing. She said that there was a slight irritation on Gustave’s skin. I pulled him into my arms and looked to where she was looking.

On the back of Gustave’s right ear there was a red patch of skin. His hair concealed most of it but you could see the irritation if you moved some of it to the side. The midwife assured me that it was most likely from the birth and would go away in a few days.

As I fed Gustave that night I kept staring at that irritated patch of skin. 

Could this be a result of labor? Or could this indicate to something I had always suspected?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The instrument used in this chapter is called a pinard horn (if there are historical inaccuracies with the timeline, I'm so sorry! I'm an English major not a history major lol)
> 
> Also if there's any One Direction fans out there, can you spot the lyric? (it's so cheesy I couldn't help myself lol)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Entry 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the tags say eventual Raoul bashing but I do want to give him SOME nice moments. I have to mentally prepare myself for when the bashing actually starts! Cos I actually have some terrible ideas for Raoul but I feel so bad lol
> 
> So here's a nice family moment <3

There is something strange and magical that occurs when you become a mother, it changes your whole world. 

The first time I held Gustave’s tiny body against my chest I felt a powerful surge of love for him. I loved him when he was in my belly and as I held him in my arms that love grew exponentially. These feelings were something I had never experienced before with another person. There was this need to protect him from the cruelties of the world and provide comfort every time he cried.

He was so tiny, it felt like I could fit him in the palm of my hand. The doctor said this was normal for a child that was born earlier, but he told us that Gustave seemed as healthy as a child of nine months.

If Raoul was suspicious about this, he never mentioned anything and he never mentioned anything about the skin behind Gustave’s ear. 

Every day after the birth I would look at the irritation and hoped it would go away. Not because it made him ugly but because I knew the reactions of other people. They would think him odd just because of this slight difference in him and I refused to let my son feel this way. 

There were times that I wanted to tell Raoul about this, but when I was close to telling him I would see the look in his eyes as he held Gustave. His first son. There was so much love and adoration in those blue eyes I did not want to say anything that would change those feelings.

I felt guilty for wanting Raoul to help me with this issue, but I resigned myself to deal with it alone. And he never brought it up, so why concern him with something he nor others had noticed?

However, I did ask the midwife for help. She recommended I use an ointment that could help with the redness and irritation. She had no explanation for the cause of the irritation other than just what some babies experience after childbirth and that it should go away after some time.

So, every morning I would use this ointment and hoped it would help little Gustave. 

After a few weeks of continued use, it did help, the redness went away and the times I looked at him the skin seemed okay. The redness eventually calmed down to a slight darker pink shade and the irritation was doing a lot better. With the help of his dark hair, it covered most of what still remained. With time I hoped it would completely disappear. 

Eventually, I stopped applying the ointment, his skin appeared healthy and most of the time his hair made it difficult to even spot it.

~*~

As I continued to care for Gustave on my own, the topic of a wetnurse and nanny was brought to my attention by both Raoul and his sisters.

His sisters were absolutely mortified when I told them the family nanny- a lovely older woman that took care of Raoul when he was younger- would not be necessary. I told them I would be taking care of Gustave, full time. And if I ever needed help from the nanny, I would call her. But for the most part I didn’t want to rely on her.

They tried explaining to me that it just wasn’t proper for a lady in my standing to solely be in charge of my child. Having a wet nurse and a nanny was what most people did. 

“If you are to return to the life of entertaining guests as a Vicomtes, you will need the help of others!” The oldest of his sisters explained. I tried to explain my point of view in all of this to them.

Not only did I not feel comfortable having a stranger taking care of my child, especially with the amount of free time I had on my hands. Life as a Vicomtes wasn’t very fulfilling and I never wanted nor enjoyed hosting for guests. I viewed caring for Gustave as my only priority. It is what I wanted to do as a mother.

Raoul was unusually quiet as his sisters continued to badger on about the topic. But I refused to relent, I would not let them make this choice for me. All I wanted in that moment was for Raoul to agree with me on this one thing. To let me care for Gustave on my own. 

Something in my heart did not want me to leave him to the care of strangers. Every time I would explain this to Raoul he would huff and say:  
“Christine you aren’t being reasonable. Perhaps it was the way that you grew up that you do not realize the benefits of having a nanny and a wet nurse for the baby! People will judge our family for not following the standard!”

That was something I never really understood. Why would others judge the way I raised my child? 

It took a while but after a lot of talking Raoul finally relented, as long as I did employ the nanny from time to time, but I would be the one to take care of Gustave. 

Despite those small arguments we had, when he had the time, Raoul would come into Gustave’s nursery with me and watch me go about feeding or changing him. Simply basking in the life of parenthood. I was happy, and I liked to think that the look in Raoul’s eyes was also happiness. 

I had two of the most important people in my life right here. In my mind I captured that serenity and was incredibly thankful for all that I had. 

~*~

Once I was able, I returned to the routine I had established before Gustave was born. I tended to my garden and went about my day-to-day life. But instead of that loneliness that always seemed to trail after me like a shadow, I had Gustave with me.

Being in his company was something I relished in. I was able to put all my worries aside and focus on not only my son but things that made me happy.

From early on I could see a natural curiosity for things in Gustave’s hazel eyes. Everything he held in his tiny hands he seemed to examine with great interest, and it fascinated me to no end to see him so engrossed in everything he encountered. 

When I would take him to the garden, I would place him across from me. Those moments outside I would watch him take his surroundings in. His hazel eyes would turn to the sky and watch for the birds that would fly into the tree or he would turn to me and watch as I tended to the flowers.

There was always an intelligence in those hazel eyes. When the sun would expose the golden flecks in his irises my heart would constrict with the memories that those familiar eyes brought to me.

~*~

When Gustave was about six months, he began to show interest in walking. I would catch him reaching towards any surface that would give him the ability to bring himself up onto his legs.

But when he finally got a handle on that he tried to stand hesitantly on his legs without anything to hold onto, then waddle towards whatever shiny thing caught his eye. And the first time he ever walked without falling back to the ground was a memorable day.

We were sitting in the library. I was reading a book while Gustave played with his toys on the ground. I wasn’t paying much attention to him but on occasion I would lift my eyes to him and make sure he hadn’t crawled off somewhere like he was prone to do nowadays. 

When I looked up, I had to do a double take. He was standing and had his arms out as he began to wobble forward. I expected him to fall back down but when he began putting one foot in front of the other, I immediately knelt to the ground and reached out my arms to him a huge smile plastered on my face.

He was all giggles as he began to waddle towards me on his unsteady feet. But once he reached my arms, I scooped him up and hugged him tightly to my chest pouring thousands of kisses on his chubby cheeks. 

We laughed together and I let him continue to practice his walking. Each time he got better and better at it.

Before Raoul got home, we waited for him right across from the door. At seven o’clock, Raoul walked in and looked confused as I sat in front of him with what was most likely a goofy grin on my face as Gustave staggered towards him. Raoul looked just as amazed as he saw Gustave hug his leg tightly. He scooped him up and hugged him close to his chest, whispering soft praises into his hair. 

In the sitting room I sat with my back against Raoul’s chest. Raoul was nursing his brandy, while I watched Gustave walk from one end of the room, grab a toy then bring them to me one by one. 

That day my heart felt like it could explode with happiness. 

We lived in domestic bliss. The three of us. It had been such a long time since I had felt this content with life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm also not a mom so idk if this is how moms actually feel once they give birth) (but I did ask my mom, but she could be a little bias in this area lol)


	8. Entry 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm two days into the new semester and I'm already overwhelmed! YIKES. 
> 
> But I hope the rest of you are having a much better time lol thanks for reading as always!

For Gustave’s first birthday I had planned an evening just for us three. Raoul, Gustave, and I would take a stroll through the park and then have a lovely dinner with a small cake. Something intimate and personal, just us. I looked forward to the time we would spend together as a family. I told Raoul with plenty of time in advance that he should come home from work early that day so we could have ample time outside.

When I told Raoul of the plans, he didn’t object and promised he would even take the day off. When he said that, I felt so excited, I went ahead and planned everything for us.

Yet, those plans were changed. One day as we were having dinner- three days before Gustave’s birthday- Raoul informed me that we would be having a large get together to celebrate. All of the De Chagny family and friends would be in attendance to finally celebrate our son.

At first, I was confused and thought I had misheard him. But when he confirmed that we would have a big party, I felt speechless...

Not only were there three days left until Gustave’s birthday, but my heart sank because of how excited I had been for our small outing together. Now it turns out I only had three days to prepare for something I had never done before- how was I expected to do something like this with so little time?

When I asked Raoul this he laughed and said it was all taken care of. Once again, I was completely lost. Did he somehow plan this?

But again, he clarified this error and told me that his family had planned everything for us and all we needed to do was be ready before noon. 

It was like a punch in the gut. My son's first birthday and I wasn’t even included in the planning of it.

I asked him if he remembered I had already planned something for us. His response was another punch in the gut, that a meager party like that was no way for a Chagny to celebrate their first birthday, so he thought it best to do something big and extravagant for his son.

That’s when I asked him in a small, hurt voice, why I wasn’t included. He seemed confused by the question but told me he wanted to spare me from the stress of having to plan a huge party. He knew how much I hated events like this, so he didn’t want me to worry about it, so he let his family plan it after they had asked what we were doing.

There was no way I could respond to that, true I hated going to balls and events. They simply made me too nervous to be around so many people, especially people that didn’t like me.

When we first emerged in the social scene Raoul was very understanding and patient with my shyness. To him it was the remnants of the trauma we endured at the hands of our masked captor. But it was just my unease being surrounded by strangers. At the time Raoul would tell me to think of this as being on stage.

But being on stage it was a different thing entirely. Up there I could slip into another world, another personality even.

On stage it felt like I was free to do anything. 

But at a party, it felt like an entirely different act I needed to put on. The act of a gracious host, welcoming in gossiping people, who all wanted to catch a glimpse at the ballet rat, turned opera singer, turned Vicomtesse. 

I was a damsel in distress and a charity case to them. A prize on Raoul’s arm. A testament to his bravery and courage against the dreaded phantom. These strangers never had any qualms telling me this and I couldn’t believe how easily they had been misled.

Little did they know that it was I who had done the saving. With two kisses I had set us free. Raoul was never the one that did the saving, it was me. 

They could never know that, nor would they believe that. I would always be the ‘other’, never really a part of their community. The purpose I served them was my voice and when that didn’t work in their favor it further cast me aside.

It hurts to be regarded as an object only there to entertain and please. Sometimes it felt like Raoul treated me that way all the time...

At that moment I felt angry with all of them. 

Maybe things would have been different if I had just been included. It was my son’s birthday after all! This was something special but of course I was cast aside, I was the outsider in my own home.

~*~

The day of the party came quicker than I expected. 

I was so caught up with my anger and hurt I hadn’t even realized that the day was finally here. 

In the morning, I woke up with a sinking feeling in my heart but set that aside as I woke up Gustave with the small cake I had originally ordered for the three of us. Raoul was absent, he had to handle something work related that had come up. 

However, Gustave did lift my spirits as I watched him grab at the icing and stick his fingers into his mouth. The gold in his hazel eyes glowed with happiness as he continued to grab at the sugary treat. But before he could grab more, I set it aside and gathered him in my arms hugging him tightly and telling him how much I loved him.

We spent the morning together but as noon approached, we began to get ready.

When the clock struck noon, I felt my chest constrict and my breathing became uneven. My throat felt like it was closing and I tried to speak but I couldn’t say anything. My palms began to sweat with the thought of being surrounded by so many strangers. It sounded daunting, being forced into a crowd full of unfriendly faces. Putting on the act of hostess for people that had never liked the fact that I married a Vicomte.

But I was nott given a moment to dwell on these thoughts and feelings because right at noon guests began to arrive. 

So, there we were welcoming guests in our finest clothes, a fake smile on my face the entire time. To the point my cheeks began to ache after a while.

As guests continued to come in, I never felt a moment of peace. Talking to one person here, then meeting another person there. It felt like I was being stretched thin.

Meanwhile, I could see Raoul drinking with some friends of his as I was handling Gustave and the guests. 

So much for gracious hosts.

But finally, after hours of agonizing social interaction and the same constant questions of:  
“Oh, yes, being a Vicomtesse is a dream come true!”  
“If I get the chance I’ll sing later.”  
And “No, I don’t have any contact with the phantom.”

I was given a moment of respite, Raoul had Gustave and I was given the chance to lock myself in a bathroom. After hours of incessant chatter, I could hear my own thoughts again. These people were worse than the handsy patrons at the opera. 

I felt like crying as I let myself slump against the door for only a few minutes but I continued to reassure myself that soon the party would be over and everything would go back to normal once everyone left.

With one last look in the mirror, I pinned back the ringlets that managed to get loose and splashed cool water against my neck. Rose was knocking at the door and informed me that it was time for Gustave to blow out his candles.

I took a last deep breath and smoothed out my dress before heading outside to the table Raoul and Gustave were waiting at. The cake looked incredible and the single candle was already in place. 

I smiled as Gustave began to reach towards the cake as we began singing to him. I was standing to his right and when the three of us bent down to blow out the candle something caught my eye. 

Something I had thought went away. Something I had not given a thought to for many, many months. How could I have been so stupid and not kept an eye on it after agonizing over it the first few months after his birth?

But there it was again, that irritated patch of skin was back-- or had it never left? 

I had to keep my composure, everyone was looking at us, so instead I combed his hair in a way that wouldn’t make the skin behind his ear visible and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was his birthday after all. 

Throughout the rest of the party, I continued to chat as if everything was normal, but my mind was racing the entire time. Had anyone noticed? So many people had interacted with Gustave, someone would have mentioned it by now if they noticed it!

Yet, the party carried on without incident. Once people began to leave, I felt like I was able to breathe somewhat easier. It wasn’t until the final guest left that my skin stopped feeling like there were millions of ants crawling all over. 

~*~

After we all calmed down and changed into night clothes Raoul was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had stumbled up the stairs and he kept calling after me. Occasionally reaching over and pinching my rear and giving me a lopsided smile. Apparently, he had one too many, which was a surprise in itself since I had never seen Raoul drunk.

I crept out of bed and made my way to Gustave’s crib and watched him sleep. The left side of his face was resting against the mattress and his right side was illuminated by the moon. 

He looked so beautiful in that moment. Resting peacefully without a care in the world. My love for him seemed to triple every time I looked at him. The familiar urge to protect him filled my senses as I stared down at his tiny features. Just behind his ear, almost hidden behind his dark hair, but with the direct light from the moon I could see. 

The patch of skin I had somehow forgotten about. It wasn’t like it had been when he first was born, this seemed slightly worse.

The thin skin pulled tight over slight indentations that used to only be irritation marks on his skin, now looked so familiar.

I learned down and kissed that area and sent a silent prayer that we would never be discovered, because if we were, I have no idea what would happen to us.

END YEAR ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year down nine more to go......
> 
> The other years won't have as many entries as this one, just because for year one I included the stuff before Gustave was born so yeah...
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter, let me know what you think of the story so far! <3


	9. Entry 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a bit of a funk but I don't want to get out of the habit of posting every week bc this is the farthest I've ever gone with posting a fic and my goal is to finish it by this year! 
> 
> Anywaayyysss we're coming into the second year of Christine and Raoul's marriage! Sprinkles of Raoul bashing will start to appear in future chapters!
> 
> Sorry Hadley Frasers Raoul, you are the exception and I love you very much <3

The months that followed Gustave’s birthday were obsession fueled.

It was like those first few months where I tried to keep it hidden, but this time the deformity was worse.

I was constantly worried that if a person would only move the dark wavy hair behind his ear, they would notice that the skin was pulled tightly over tiny patches of indentations where you could almost see the outline of veins and possibly his skull. 

Would they connect the dots?

If anyone were to notice, everything would come crashing down on us.

People would know who Gustave’s real father was, most importantly Raoul would know that I had been unfaithful.

His love had always been strong, but could it hold through this betrayal?

Things were already tense with us since the party, it seems like he finally noticed that I wasn’t prepared for high society life. He kept trying to get me to come out with his friends, but it was hard to fit in when there was such a huge gap in the lives we lived.

My priority was Gustave and making sure nothing would ever be revealed.

For a while I waited for the shoe to drop, for Raoul to storm up on me one day and tell me that he knew. That he was disgusted with what I had done. That what we had between us was done.

Gustave and I would be thrown to the street. With no family or friends, I would have nowhere to turn to. If I knew where Madame Giry was, I knew she would be able to help. But I didn’t have the faintest idea of where she could be or for that matter if she would even accept me and my son into her home a second time!

The only other option I had was to find work-- but who would hire a disgraced former Vicomtes with a one year old to take care of?

Finding work as a woman would be difficult. There weren’t options that could keep us afloat. 

Trying to get a job as a maid would be my best shot but almost everyone in France knew who the Vicomte de Chagny was and they would definitely not hire the wife who had deceived him and had a bastard child with her.

My options were quite limited.

My mind would wander to those women of the night. That also had nowhere to turn to and in turn used their bodies to keep themselves alive.

The thought of doing that frightened me to my very core. 

But if it kept us alive, what other choice did I have?

My voice would no longer be welcome in the community of the elite, they were the only ones that could really afford to pay for singing entertainment. And my voice wasn’t like it used to be. Two years without real training left it like it was at the beginning. 

Before I was visited by the “Angel of Music.”

I tried to replicate the practices I would do with Erik. 

But my heart was not in it.

Selling my voice for the entertainment of others and not because it brought me joy would be like stabbing myself in the heart.

I would have to carry the burden of this secret not only to protect Gustave but also Raoul.

He had so much to lose from this, his name would be dragged in the mud and he would be made a cuckold. He could easily blame me for every wrong that would befall him if the truth got out. But things would never be the same for any of us.

This slight difference of appearance would set our son apart from all children.

The obsession with trying to find any way that could help him was what drove me forward. I knew that keeping his hair semi-long would only be slightly enough to cover the indentations.

After reading books on hair loss and thinning I began to rub oils into his scalp after noticing that the hair in the area was thinner than the rest of his hair. But there wasn’t much I could do to fix the rest.

In those moments I especially hated myself because this was my son. The one person in life that I loved with my entire being. He was a part of me and when I considered what he had a ‘problem’ I was disgusted with myself. 

I was no better or different from the people that had treated Erik with no respect just because his appearance was different.

If it were just me, I would never care about the small deformity. I loved Gustave just the way he was! At just a year old he was so incredibly smart and inquisitive and so funny! But I was frightened. 

What would others do if they noticed?

How could they not notice it? When it was all I could notice when I looked at Gustave.

I always wondered if Raoul saw the deformity behind Gustave’s ear. Although it was small and pretty well hidden, I had noticed it so there was a possibility that he had as well. But he has never brought it up nor have I seen him look at Gustave in a different manner. 

If he ever did see it maybe he would blame it on the fall I had during the pregnancy. The doctor had said there could be problems with the pregnancy because of it so perhaps that is where his mind would go if he ever saw it.

That is what I planned on telling people if they ever brought it up.

“Oh, it was a sad accent that happened during my pregnancy! It most definitely has nothing to do with a certain deformed man that I met at an opera house!” 

~*~

I observed Raoul like a hawk. Anytime he was around Gustave I would look at his mannerism and his eyes. But anytime he was around him everything seemed so normal.

As normal as a father son relationship could get. He didn’t do much except play with Gustave when he had the chance. Or he would watch us as I read him to sleep.

Nowadays Raoul just looked tired, but it made sense, he had been out late most of the time. He said he would be at work, but I could smell the spirits on him…

I’d excuse it as him being stressed from work and just having something to relax him from dealing with those daily stresses. 

Me not going with him to these gatherings bothered him, I could tell. But they weren’t for me. At the time I would rather stay home and watch over Gustave.

I tried my best for both of them. Trying to be a good wife and a good mother by protecting both of my boys the best I could.

Even if it meant losing myself in the process.


	10. Entry 10

It had seemed to be a promising day.

Raoul had woken up in a very good mood, kissing my cheek on his way to his place at the table and Gustave giggled as he ruffled his hair, which I proceeded to fix immediately after.

We ate silently for a while, Gustave holding pieces of fruit in each of his hands as I tried to feed him his eggs, while also sipping my own tea. 

Raoul abruptly put his newspaper down on the table revealing a huge grin on his face. He began to tell me about a close friend, Louis, that had left for England a while back but now he had married and moved back to Paris with his new wife.

He laughed as he recounted all the times they had spent together and how excited he was that Louis was back. I was also happy for Raoul and told him that it’s always great reconnecting with a childhood friend, winking at him.

There was going to be a homecoming dinner in the new couple’s honor and we had been invited to go. 

I agreed to go, it was only a small dinner and it was for a dear friend of Raoul’s. My chest didn’t constrict at the thought of going to the dinner, so I felt okay enough to leave Gustave for a couple of hours. 

Raoul seemed extremely pleased the entire day.

As we were eating lunch in the garden, I saw him pour himself multiple times as he continued to talk animatedly about his friend. 

~*~

Later that night I was trying to get my hair to cooperate into the style I wanted it to go into. Raoul had joined me in the room and was babbling on, his words occasionally slurring. 

As I was pinning up my hair in the mirror, Raoul sat on the bed with a new glass of scotch in hand, telling me about the evening. “This party is going to be great, all the lads from our grade are going to be there!” 

I paused and looked at him through the mirror.

“Party,” I asked, “I thought this was only going to be a small dinner?” 

Raoul eyes widened; his secret finally revealed. He walked towards me and placed his hands on my shoulders and proceeded to explain that he knew I wouldn’t agree to go if I knew it was a party.

My chest constricted. 

How many times would I have to make excuses about going to parties like this?

“So, you decided to lie to me?” My voice felt small. 

“I wanted to surprise you! They asked me if you could sing tonight and I agreed, I know how much you love to sing! And you haven’t sang in so long I thought you would be happy.” He tried to explain.

My heart sank.

I wasn’t invited as a guest. I was the entertainment.

“No, Raoul, not like this. Not anymore.” How could I make him understand that singing in front of others like this made me feel completely dirty, that all I was to them was just a pretty voice. 

He swayed slightly on his feet. His fingers squeezing then relaxing instantly.

“So, when that THING asked you to sing for him you obeyed without hesitation, but when your HUSBAND asks, you won’t do it?” My eyes widened; this was the first time he had ever brought up Erik since that night. 

I shook my head, “I am not going because I refuse to sing in front of those hypocritical people! They all hate me; they look at me as if I were dirt! But when I’m in front of them they only tolerate me, then speak nasty things behind my back!” I was fuming and before my brain could catch up, I spat out the worst thing I could say.

“At least HE never forced me into performing against my will!” That was a lie, but I wanted to hurt Raoul, just as he had hurt me by lying.

His warm breath wafting around me, the smell of alcohol making me gag. I was starting to hate that smell.

In a cold detached voice, he told me that a good wife does what her husband tells her to do.   
He guided me towards the closet and began pulling out dresses and shoes, throwing all of them carelessly on the bed.

“You’re coming with me to this party. You will no longer make me look like a complete fool showing up alone.” 

I stood in front of the bed, the dresses all crumpled together, but I refused to back down. 

“I am not going.” I sounded like a petulant child, but I was not about to let myself be pushed around because of promises he made on my behalf. 

As he approached me I felt myself panic. Maybe I had taken this too far. I was supposed to be a good wife and he never demanded much from me except to go to these stupid parties. 

But, no, I couldn’t let him step over me like that. There was a difference between being a good wife and having respect for myself. He purposefully lied to me and made this sort of decision knowing I wouldn’t agree to it.

“Get dressed!” He turned me around and began to pull at the buttons on my day dress.

I yelped when I heard it tear. I climbed over the bed and put distance between us holding up my dress.

He looked shocked, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Raising my head and with a firm voice, “I am not going.”

“Nothing is going to bring that beast back. He is dead Christine move on.”

Unwelcome tears sprang to my eyes, “How could you be so horrible?” His usually warm blue eyes had turned cold as he turned his back to me and walked out the door.

I followed him out the door and watched him cursing the entire way down the stairs. He reached the entrance to the house and turned to look at me at the top of the staircase. 

He shook his head and with a huff, yanked the door open and slammed it so hard the windows shook.

~*~

Back in the room I looked at my clothes scattered over the bed and floor.

This was the worst fight we had ever had, and I felt a horrible hollowness in my chest. I began to gather the items in my arms and walked back into my closet, determined just to shove them in there and deal with them at another time. 

All I wanted to do was burrow under the covers and cry. 

As I tossed the items on the floor, I saw the tiny wooden box that was meant to be hidden. The small wooden box had elaborate carvings of vines and intertwining flowers and music notes. The contents within it were a small, weathered portrait of my father that I kept carefully wrapped in linen, a piece of red scarf, and a dried rose, the black ribbon still tied around the thornless stem.

But that little wooden box had somehow fallen out of its hiding place and the contents were spilled across the floor. 

I dropped to my knees and quickly placed everything carefully into its place. My father’s portrait was fine, safely wrapped in its scrap of linen.

The dried red rose wasn’t so fortunate. 

With trembling hands, I reached out and gathered the petals that had been pulled apart. I fingered the delicate petal and closed my eyes. Letting myself reminisce on those memories that I had carefully concealed.

I gasped as I recalled the date.

It had been just a little over two years since everything happened.

Last year I had been so concerned with Gustave it slipped my mind. But this year… 

Was that why Raoul had brought up Erik?

I opened the box I always meant to keep closed and those memories began to eat me up. The box, both physical and metaphorical… 

It had been so long since I had thought of Erik and now that I stared at the box and saw these personal objects, I was forced to relive that pain. 

The pain of being used, not only by Erik but also Raoul, in Don Juan Triumphant. 

Being forced to play the role of Aminta despite my pleas to Raoul that I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it. Yet Raoul told me that the only way to help Erik was to get him out of the opera house. But they never intended to help him, they just wanted him dead. 

I had betrayed Erik’s trust by unmasking him in front of hundreds of people and Raoul betrayed my trust by lying to me and treating me like a child.

Then there was the pain of having to make an impossible decision.

Two different men and two different types of love. But that choice didn’t seem to matter because it was subsequently ignored, just like my wishes were ignored time and time again. 

But I had always known my decision, deep down in my heart. It was always there in front of me.

I just had to be brave. 

And I was brave, I went back to Erik, determined to once again regain my autonomy and I put myself in that vulnerable position. Bearing my heart and soul to the man I thought had felt the same love burning passionately in his heart.

That choice was also taken from me and he left me with a child and a broken heart.

It was those memories especially that I had to keep buried in that little wooden box, tucked away safely within another box buried deep within my closet and mind. Because having to deal with those memories everyday would surely drain my already aching heart.

I placed everything carefully back into the box and breathed in and out like Erik taught me so long ago. 

Closing the closet door, I changed out of my torn dress into my nightwear, 

Burrowing into bed by myself I drifted off into a restless sleep. 

~*~

I wasn’t sure what time it was when I felt Raoul creep quietly into bed. The smell of smoke and alcohol heavy on his breath. 

He brought his lips to my ear and whispered.

“I’m sorry.” 

My body began to shake with sobs as I turned around. We hugged and kissed each other.

And as he took me that night it wasn’t gentle nor was it passionate. We both wanted to feel one another and forget all the hurtful things we had said. 

Most of all I just wanted to close that box I had opened up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attempt at dialoged, I hope it wasn't to jarring, seeing as I never really include that much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Entry 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon another time, you went off and left me alone.  
> But that's not all you did you left me with a son.  
> Ever since that other time, I wished, how I wished you'd have known.  
> I kept the secret hid, the secret my marriage forbid  
> What else could I have done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! Sorry for not updating last week, school as usual is an absolute pain!!!  
> Buuut if you're interested I did write a smutty E/C fic in honor of Valentine's Day called Flowers for Vases if yall wanna check that out (shameless plug I'm sorry lol)! 
> 
> Thank you as always for reading! <3

At almost three years old Gustave was a ball of energy. Throughout the day I’d be running after him as he laughed at my attempts to catch him. 

He was a little escape artist, every morning I would wake up and find him already out of his crib. Waiting for me so we could start the day together.

He’d laugh whenever I scooped him up and rained kisses onto his cheeks. And when he learned to talk it was a never ending string of questions. Gustave would ask me about all sorts of things and I would be completely amazed with how much he had already grown up. 

I’d get him ready for the day, expertly combing his hair just right and made sure he knew not to toy with his hair during the day.

For such a young boy he seemed to understand so much already and only once did he ask why he couldn’t touch his hair.

I enveloped him in a hug and kissed his temple as I explained, “Well, my love, we have a very important secret to keep between us. But this secret is only for mama, we cannot show papa or any of the others the secret that your hair hides.”

“But why?” His curious hazel eyes would look at me with all the wonder in the world.

How does one explain something so delicate like this to a child?

“Because, they wouldn’t understand the secret, but we do. So it is important we keep it to ourselves for now. Is that okay Gustave?”

He thought about it for a while and then nodded enthusiastically.

“Our special secret.” Gustave giggled and he stuck out his pinky finger towards me. I smiled and wrapped my pinky around his.

“Our special secret.”

~*~

Gustave and I had been having breakfast alone for the past few weeks ever since the night of the party. Most days Raoul would wake up after me and we’d have small talk as he quickly got ready and left for work or he would stay in his office most of the day and asked not to be disturbed.

Despite apologizing, I think we both felt guilty. 

Such a petty argument that shouldn’t have even taken place had changed the dynamic between us. I wanted to help mend it somehow, but he made it impossible. He kept avoiding me and anytime I tried to broach the subject he would say everything was fine between us and excuse himself.

So when he joined Gustave and I for breakfast I was surprised. Gustave was elated as his father sat down asking him if he wanted some of the vegetables on his plate. Raoul laughed but politely refused.

He looked up at me and I could tell there was something he wanted to say, instead he leaned over and kissed me and I melted into it. Craving that affection.

Things felt almost normal between us.

~*~

Raoul was leaving for London on some business trip. That was what he meant to tell me during breakfast but he said he didn’t want to ruin the calm of that morning. 

I didn’t bother asking why he was leaving, his answer was always the same, some De Chagny business.

I didn’t want him to leave. Things with us were still too tense for him to leave for such an extended period. He would be leaving for two months. I couldn’t help but feel like this was my fault. That he was leaving because I wasn’t doing what a good wife was supposed to do.

I tried to ignore those thoughts and tried to cherish the time we still had before he left for London. He promised that once he returned, we’d all go on a trip together now that Gustave was a bit older.

Maybe we would take him to Perros and show him where his parents first met and fell in love.

The thought warmed my heart.

Gustave and I spent the entire evening with him before the morning he left. Sitting in front of the fire, my back pressed against his chest while he played with my hair, we watched Gustave play with his blocks, occasionally knocking his design down and starting all over again. 

Basking in that content warmth, like nothing had changed.

That night I kissed Raoul deeply. 

Dragging him close to my body, searching for that warmth that I so desperately craved and missed.

Pulling off each other's clothes and nipping at every new sliver of skin we exposed we needed something from each other in that moment.

A sense of the past that we had lost in the past few months. And as he entered me it felt like we were those kids back at the opera. So in love with each other and the childhood we shared.

I gasped and buried my face into his neck. Kissing him and dragging him closer.

But as he continued to thrust into me my mind kept flickering back to golden eyes. I tried to push the thought away. I didn’t want to think about him before my husband left. 

I needed to stay present, so I mustered up my strength and flipped us over so I was straddling Raoul’s hips. Raoul gasped as I began to move above him, his eyes wide with surprise and lust. I took Raoul’s fingers and placed it to that place just above where we were connected, moaning as he took the hint and rubbed. 

It didn’t take long for him to finish, dragging me with him towards the edge. He pulled me down and kissed me deeply.

“I love you Lotte.”

I curled into his chest, pleading for golden eyes to not appear in the night.

Ever since the overturned box in the closet I dreamed about Erik. These dreams were always so vivid I couldn’t help but feel like they were real.

The sun would be setting as I made my way to the opera house. Going down, down, down, each step bringing me closer to some form of completeness. Like my heart was waiting for me there.

At the edge of the underground lake the boat would be waiting for me, a lantern already lit, I would step on and it would jolt forward. A peaceful stillness would surround me, enveloping me like a warm blanket despite the chill of the cavern.

Then I would hear it. The sound of an organ playing, and I would shiver as the music surrounded me. I would be seeing Erik again. 

The closer I got the more frantic the song would get, until I made it to the shore where it calmed down and ended on a sweet note.

His back would always be turned from me as if he didn’t know I was standing right behind him. So reminiscent of the time I cruelly took his mask from him. But this time instead of pulling it away from him, I placed my hand on his bare cheek and he would lean into my touch, placing a warm kiss on my palm.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” He would say as he turned to face me, unmasked and tears in his golden eyes.

At that point I would always jolt awake. Heart beating out of my chest and sweat dripping down my brow. Struggling to fall back asleep, I would look out the window and stare at the stars.

Letting my mind be engulfed by the darkness of the night, I pushed away all the questions in my mind. I'd stare at the moon and focus on anything but all those questions that haunted me.

With a final breath I would relish the cold air as it brought me back down to earth. 

When I would eventually crawl back into bed there was always a question lingering as I closed my eyes. Could he be waiting?


	12. Entry 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To make your death our storied end. 
> 
> TW: implied suicide

Raoul had been gone for almost two weeks now. Life at home felt odd… Like time was hardly moving in his absence. 

A sort of standstill that was further punctuated by the recurring dreams of Erik. Why now was he haunting me like a ghost for the second time in my life?

I tried ignoring them for a time and hoped they would go away but it would be the same dream, Erik telling me that he was waiting for me. And something foolish and selfish in my heart wanted to go down there and see for myself. To confirm if he was actually right under my nose the entire time. 

There was so much I wanted to tell him. I wasn’t even sure what I would do if he indeed was down there. But I had to see. Not only for my own peace of mind but for Gustave’s sake as well. 

What would Erik say or do if he found out he had a son? One that looks like him in more ways than one. Erik hated his face so much; would he hate his son for the deformity he passed on to him? I had to know.

The selfish part of my heart wanted to know if we could still have some form of a life together after all this time. If our feelings were still the same for each other. If we even were the same people anymore. 

But what about Raoul? How was this fair to him in any way? We had our issues, that was certain, but there was something I needed to do. There was no doubt in my heart that I loved Raoul, my first love. The mother in me thought of Gustave, could I change his entire world like that?

With Raoul we were safe and secure and loved. With Erik… there was just so much left uncertain with him.

But I had to know if he was down there.

So, I [planned to visit the ruins of the opera house. Some sort of superstition drove everyone away from the once opulent place. The people of Paris believed it to be cursed and no one dared enter it.

I wish I had been more superstitious at the time. But it was like something was pushing me away yet drawing me near its disastrous remains.

~*~

The night before I went on my mission, the dream was different. 

Like it was a continuation of the previous dream. Erik told me he was waiting for me, but this time Gustave was with me, his arms wrapped around my neck, his eyes full of curiosity at the man in front of him.

“Our son.” Erik would say, stroking the deformity behind Gustave’s ear, a small smile playing on his lips. But his eyes expressed the fascination and love he felt for Gustave.

Then we were huddled together. An impossible warmth penetrating my skin, warming my heart. 

My heart broke a little waking up. Both for Raoul and Erik. Even now my heart was pinned against two different men. But maybe this was my sign to go back and look for Erik once more. Perhaps he was actually waiting for me.

~*~

This was a bad idea. I knew this before I started the journey. The logical side of my mind knew that I wouldn’t find what I was looking for, but not once did I turn back.

There was an empty pit in my stomach as I stood in front of the charred stage. I could feel a headache starting as I relived that night so many months ago. I rubbed my sweating palms against my skirts as I rushed past it, trying to forget the feeling of terror and panic as guns were pointed at me. 

The screams of the audience as they faced someone they believed was a monster. Then the hurt and angry eyes of the man that I didn’t know I loved at the time. Then a rush of air as bullets zoomed past us as I was dragged away. 

Without looking back at it I walked on shaky legs towards my old dressing room where I knew there would be access to the cellars down below… 

The journey there was dusty and full of cobwebs. The air was stale as I continued to walk down, a lantern I happened upon guided my way. The traps that once kept people away were either broken or dismantled by the same man that put them in place.

When I arrived at the lake I shivered as I saw the little boat there, but it had no lantern, nor did it jolt forward when I stepped on. Instead, I paddled the entire way there, arms burning as I hit the shore.

No organ music greeted me, instead a place left in disastrous abandon.

I called out hesitantly, but there was no response.

It seemed like the mob left nothing intact. Everything was in distress and disarray as I walked around Erik’s home. For a moment I had hope when I entered what looked to be his sleeping quarters.

The massive bed seemed to be the only thing that was in order. Sheets tucked in and pillows in place and looking entirely out of place in the disaster that was his home. I looked around but found nothing that indicated that another person was there. 

Yet, when I approached the bed there it was. As if it was frozen in time, a folded letter on one of the pillows, red wax glaring back at me, missing the usual skull. 

My hands were shaking as I grabbed the letter, yellowed paper curled around the edges. I thought about how the humidity down here clearly affected it. Heart racing, I broke the seal and was met with familiar handwriting. 

It felt like my heart stopped completely. One moment it was beating out of my chest and the next it laid still. After Erik left me that night, I had hoped he would at least find the life that he deserved. I hoped he would find some sense of normalcy. 

The note crushed in my clenched fist, I tried to still the tremors that had begun. I clutched the note to my aching chest, I could feel a wetness on my cheeks, but in that moment, it felt like my body and mind were disconnected.

When had this been left here? Had it been right after he left me? Or had that always been his plan?

To make his death our stories end.

I jumped as I heard a sob ring around the destroyed cavern. It took me a moment to realize it was my own sobs that continued to be wrenched out of my chest, echoing and jumping around each shadowy corner. 

A numbness spread throughout my whole body as the world came to an abrupt halt. Here, below the earth, time felt like it stopped as the tears continued to flow. 

Erik was gone. Really and truly gone. 

A stuttering sigh escaped my dry mouth as I stared off into the darkness. Letting the shadows comfort me in my secret grief. No one could ever know what I found down there, everyone believed him to be dead for over two years. And maybe he had been dead there was no way I could possibly know what had truly happened. Except for what he left in the note.

“My dearest Christine,  
Forgive me, but I am not deserving of your love. You gave me one of the most spectacular and blessed nights of my life. I must say, you gave this wretched man the greatest gift. Having been able to pretend that I could be good enough for just a few hours has made me the happiest man on this god forsaken earth.  
But my love, I cannot stay with you. You deserve a life up in the sun, with a beautiful and perfect man at your arm that can give you a beautiful and bountiful life, without having to hide or be ashamed. I now know I cannot be that man for you. I will always be the outsider and I cannot bear to bring you down with me.  
Once again, I am giving you your freedom and know that I do this for the love I have for you because you deserve all that life can give. One day, I hope you are able to forgive your Angel of Music for deceiving you so cruelly. I hope your father can forgive me as well, but I do not think I will be going to the same place as him. Keep living, my Christine, the world deserves to hear that golden voice of yours. I know I will always have your voice inside my head and as I draw my last breath your name will be on my lips.  
Forever your Angel of Music,  
Erik.”

~*~

I cried silent tears the entire way back to the surface. I cried the entire way home and moved numbly towards my room.

Feeling just as cold as Erik’s home and just as lonely. 

I sat on the edge of the bed and let myself feel the pain of loss for only a few more moments. My nose was runny, and my chest ached a tightness set into my limbs as the fire roared, but I couldn’t feel its warmth.

I counted from five, took a deep breath and wiped the tears away. I had Gustave to look after, I had been gone the entire day, the longest we had ever been separated. I couldn’t let myself get lost in that pitiless sadness. 

All I wanted to do in that moment was to sleep and wake up to a new day and forget how foolish I had been to have gone down there. I began to pace the entire room, a sudden burst of intention hitting me with force.

I went to the closet and pulled out the wooden box. Grabbing the crumpled up rose and the note I had all but destroyed with the way I had crushed it in my hand.

Kneeling on the warm ground in front of the fireplace I barely felt the warmth, my body feeling entirely too cold. I shivered and kissed the note and rose, saying my final goodbye and tossing it into the fire.

The tears came back and I let myself feel the pain and loss of the person I loved. But in the morning, I would wake up and I would place a mask over my own face. Pretending everything was fine and that I was happy and that I was okay.

Although at the time it felt like that couldn’t be true, I would be okay, with time my heart would mend itself and I would continue living. For Gustave and for Raoul and in time for myself. 

END YEAR TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another year ended, damn here we go again. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	13. Entry 13

Getting away from Paris and staying in Perros Guirec for the majority of the summer had been a blessed relief. 

After Raoul came back from his two months in London, he had insisted on taking an extended vacation to Perros. He wanted to bring in Gustave’s birthday by the seaside and to get away from the busy Parisian streets. I had vehemently agreed with him.

Weeks of secretly grieving Erik’s death I felt the need to get out of the city. When my father first died, I was never the type to cry in front of others. Always waiting for a private moment to release the tears I had been holding in desperately. I wanted to be strong for my father because I knew that is what he would have wanted for me. 

To be strong and move on. So that’s what I did. 

During the day I would hold myself together and act as I normally would. Going about my day with my son, taking tea outside, tending to my garden, doing anything and everything to keep my mind busy. 

On occasion I would even go to the kitchen and bake, letting my mind focus on the routine of precise measuring and kneading. Taking satisfaction in the work I could come up with while also enjoying the pastries I would make for the house.

But even through this mindless work, at night I would feel the heartache of the loss. 

Only alone in my room I would let myself feel the ache in my chest and let the tears -- that always seemed ready to come out -- fall onto my pillow. 

I only allowed this for just a few moments, then I would shove that grief and heartache into a little box and hide it in a dark corner in my mind. And when Raoul came back nothing could appear wrong in front of him. He needed to see I was still the same person he left. That nothing had changed.

If he noticed anything off about me or about my sudden need to fill every moment with tasks, he never said anything. 

I wasn’t even sure if I should be offended that he could miss something like this that consumed me. But then again Raoul was never that observant in the first place.

However, I did notice something odd about Raoul. Something I couldn’t quite place, but nonetheless, there was something about his behavior that caught my attention.

Over the course of a few days, I kept an eye on him. But he maintained the schedule he always did. Some days he would wake up in a great mood and on others I couldn’t even approach him, frustration and tension rolling off him in waves. 

In the morning we’d have breakfast, he'd do business in his office, then go into town for a few hours. Sometimes coming back hours after the sun had set and I had tucked Gustave into bed. 

Always smelling of alcohol and smoke. 

Some nights, I would stay up waiting for him and when I’d question him about his whereabouts, he’d slur some response and fall into bed. This frustrated me to no end but there wasn’t much I could do in these instances.

Leaving Paris would do all of us good.

~*~

We left early one morning and once we arrived at the house by the sea, the look on Gustave’s face as he saw the ocean for the first time was the most beautiful thing I had ever witnessed.

His curious eyes taking in the crashing waves, the bright sun reflecting off the sea, he bolted immediately to the sandy shore. I chased after him with a laugh escaping me as he began to pull off his shoes urgently. I did the same, albeit in a calmer fashion then my son. 

Gathering the hem of my dress up I grabbed Gustave’s hand in the other and together we walked to the water's edge. Gustave squealed with glee when the cold water lapped at our feet. 

We stood there for a while, slowly sinking lower into the sand with each passing wave. Raoul had made his way towards us, but he stayed a bit behind shoes firmly in place, watching us with a smile. 

When Gustave spotted Raoul, he ran towards him, tackling his waist in a big hug. For the most part Raoul was surprised at such a random burst of affection but that was quickly remedied. He came out with the worst mimicry of a pirate and began to chase after Gustave, his index finger bent to resemble a hook.

Gustave squealed and began to run away, the wind carrying his laughter. I watched them play until Raoul’s attention was turned to me and he caught me around the waist before I could run. Spinning me in the air as Gustave came to save me from the dreaded pirate.

We were so incredibly happy in those moments together by the sea

This is how I always wanted to feel. Like a family, that could smile and laugh easily, and enjoy playful moments by the sea. Forgetting a broken heart or the fact that your husband was drinking more and more or the secret your son hid from the world.

In this moment I forgot all of that and let myself enjoy what I did have. People who loved me and who I loved with my entire being.

Standing on that beach with Gustave and Raoul, I realized how desperately I wanted to move on from the past that kept haunting me. A past that prevented me from moving on with my life.

The barrier I had erected between Raoul and I had hindered our happiness. I knew I wanted to have more children with him and yet here we were, three years into our marriage and nothing had happened.

It felt like that mental barrier I had put up was what prevented us from extending our family. If I moved on from that part of my life, maybe things between Raoul and I would change.

I would make that effort for us.

The past wasn’t something I wanted to linger on any longer. I wanted to move on. To become my own person and I knew that constantly thinking about my past with Erik would prevent me from doing that. 

Burning the rose and his note needed to mean something to me. 

I needed to move on and start fresh with Raoul, nothing holding back the feelings I had for him anymore. 

It was time I closed that book of the opera singer and the Angel of Music and all those involved in it. 

For good.


End file.
